


A Word Of Caution To This Tale

by KiriJones



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, House Stark, Magic, Wargs, direwolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 21:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6724090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiriJones/pseuds/KiriJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Benjen Stark descends from the Wall to he brings with him a woman thought long lost, his elder sister and the twin of The Warden of the North, Eddard Stark. With her strange blue eyes that almost seem to glow and hair white as snow Freya Stark is guarded, calculating, and ruthless in her pursuits. </p>
<p>And with her return Freya will bring about a great many changes to House Stark and the fate of the North. But in her quest for vengeance and survival Freya has done much that stained her hands black. And everyone around her is a pawn in her hands; even the children of her beloved brother. </p>
<p>But as the King comes Freya and Ned will have to face that some things are inevitable and that some destinies can not be changed. Instead grand schemes and tangled webs will be weaved. And the Starks will show all of Westeros one final truth: Winter is Coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Word Of Caution To This Tale

The woman standing before them all does not look like a Stark. At least not in the traditional sense. The woman is taller than the average woman in winter fell but not too tall to be considered ungainly. Her skin is as smooth as porcelain and she looks younger than her age. There are no wrinkles in the corners of her eyes or lines from smiles at the sides of her mouth. Instead of the grey Stark eyes her large eyes are an unnatural blue that almost seems to glow in the light of the fading day in the courtyard. Her hair which is braided back and ends mid back is not dark like her brothers. No instead hair white as snow or the lays on the head of the elderly decorates her skull. It is thick and curly. Freckles dance across her face and trickles down her neck and disappear under the high necked gown she wears. The gown is pitch black and matches her black cloak trimmed with fur. 

A smirk twists her mouth at a mocking angle and her eyes sweep across the family in the yard. Her eyes are hard and not an ounce of kindness escapes her gaze. She says nothing as she walks up and comes face to face with her brother. Edward Stark says nothing as he locks eyes with his twin. When he says nothing she arches her brow and then Ned Stark bursts out laughing and draws her into his embrace. The woman is lost in his embrace and she closes her eyes and returns his embrace. He whispers her name and she savors it. It has been oh so long since she has had any human contact. Since anyone has touched her in kindness. Or love. She salvors the moment as long as she can before she ends it. There is too much to be done and too little time.

Freya Stark breaks out of her brothers loving embrace and instead turns to attention to the only other figure in the yard she feels any attachment too. Old Nan smiles toothlessly at her as Freya moves to kiss the ancient crone on her forehead. Nan was one of the only figures of her childhood she remembers with fondness. Nan looks up at Freya and moves her old grizzled hands as she puts them on either side of Freya's face and tilts it to either side to examine her. The old woman sighs and shakes her head. As her hands drop away she says," You stupid girl. Couldn't help yourself could you? I hope it was worth it." Freya simply smirks and then turns back to the family her brother has made for himself. 

His Southern wife is not looking pleased at her presence and Freya eyes her in annoyance. She loves her brother but Ned should have known better than to let himself lose what was left of his heart to this slip of a fish woman. She knew without a doubt Ashara Dayne would forever hold the majority of it but this woman had a place and Freya did not like it. She would need to put Catelyn Tully in her place and soon. Soon Winterfell would once again be run by a Stark and not by a fish trying to lay among the wolves.

sighing she moved and placed her arm around Ned's shoulders even as he laughed hen she had to step on the tips of her toes to accomplish this. Wordlessly they moved into the halls of Winterfell and Freya breathed in the air of her childhood home. And yet it did nothing to quench the feeling of impending doom that had settled into her bones. She had less than two years before Robert would come North. Less than two years to spend with her brother and his brood. Less than two years to convince Ned to agree to her plans. 

It would have to do. She had come much too far and done too much to let her House fall. She was Freya Stark. She would do what needed to be done and cut down all who got in her way. Later than night when all were asleep drunk with their brews after the Feast a figure exited the room.

wearing only a sleeping gown with a thin cloak over it Freya Stark walked barefoot through the halls of Winterfell until she came to the Godswood. It had been years since she had been here. Memories of her father and Brandon and Lyanna assaulted her. She spit at the thought of her sister. She hoped wherever the bitch was she was suffering something worse than anything imaginable. Freya Stark was not proud of many of the things she had done in her life. 

However she counted letting Lyanna bleed to death in the Tower of Joy one of her finest moments. She chuckled harshly and knew what Howland called her. Kinsalyer. But she was also a Kingslayer so how was Kinslayer that much worse. But she knew if Ned were to ever find out he would never forgive her. Ned with his soft heart and honor. 

Freya had always been different than her brother. Freya who had taken blows and comes out all the stronger for it. Freya had steel in her spine and ice in her veins. She did what needed to be done and had no regrets. Yes she had let Lyanna die but she had saved the babe who had been innocent of her mothers sins and looked so much like Ned she could not bear to let the child die. So she had nursed the babe herself and had not done a thing as simpering Lyanna had begged for her Rhaegar at first and then her precious Visenya. No. Freya had not let her sister tainted hands touch the boy.

Lyanna was the reason she own child was born dead and the reason why she would never bear another. Freya would save them all from Lyanna even if the cost of this was her sisters life. But suddenly Freya was shaken from her memories when she reached her destination. The weirwood tree stood before her.

This weir wood looked as if it was a stoic figure. In all of her travels Freya had seen many, some laughing some crying and some angry. Often she liked to think this was one was her favorite, it was strong and silent. Kneeling Freya touched its trunk in reverence and laid her forehead to rest upon it. As the moments passed she savored the silence interrupted only by the running water and the rustling wind and the screeches of the distant birds. 

Raising her hand Freya began to speak. "It is almost time. I will do my best to make ready. I think Ned knows. I think he remembers what you told him before you died. About his death. Oh Grandmother I wish you could be hear. Six Stark children. They are the ones who will ensure the survival of our name if they can survive what is coming." She pauses to remove a knife from the sheath on her thigh. She quickly drew it across her left palm where old scar tissue remained from all the other times she did it. Standing her made a fist and watch as the blood dripped onto the roots. Locking eyes with the face she concluded, "I will do whatever needs to be done Grandmother. Even if it means that blood will rain down and heads will roll. I will,not fail. I will not let us fall. I swear it with the old gods as my witness. It will not happen again." 

And with that Freya walked away. And in the cool darkness she did not see the crow land on the branch of the weir wood tree nor did she notice the dry dirt spotless of the blood that had been there moments before nor the tears falling from th eyes of the tree. Tears as red as blood. 


End file.
